UnLocked Hearts
by Emochan
Summary: "So open your eyes and see, the way our horizons meet, and all of the lights will lead, into the night with me, and I know the skies will bleed, but both of our hearts believe, all of the stars will guide us home." A series of CloTi drabbles that fill in the gaps left from the game and Advent Children. In no particular chronological order. Cloud x Tifa.
1. Key 1: Nightmares

**Author's Note:** Hello, everyone. I've decided to tap into one of my favorite fandoms and write something new. I roleplay as Tifa Lockhart on tumblr and through the years, I've come up with a list of things that I wish had been developed more between Cloud and Tifa. Of course, I am also a dedicated fan of them as a couple, so I will be sharing how I feel they would reach that point in their relationship. I already have a handful of drabbles finished, so I will hopefully be updating on a routine basis until they are all finished.

These are not in any particular order, as I write them when I feel in the mood for a specific setting/situation.

I hope you will enjoy what I come up with. Let's begin, shall we?

* * *

_"You learned to run from what you feel, and that's why you have nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control." _  
― **Megan Chance, The Spiritualist**

She was bathing in a sea of emerald, floating like a feather in the wind on a breezy spring morning.

Absolutely weightless.

Absolutely free.

There was no rhyme or reason to it all; why she was floating or where she was going. All she could focus on was how deep the green could do as she stared. It was hauntingly familiar, but in such a way that she wasn't frightened or worried. Just merely accepting that it was reminiscent of something and moving on.

Until she began to feel something fall onto her. It was a drop at first, a searing scarlet liquid. Glancing down at her palm where it landed, she examined it with curious eyes. Another fell then. And another. And another. Soon, she was drenched in the iron-scented rain, no longer able to see that beautiful sea.

Instead, she could only see blood. Hear screams of horror and the light around her fading into oblivion. At the very cusp, she felt a stinging sensation at her chest, her hands moving to try and sooth the flesh there. But there was no reprieve. The pain increased to a point where she fell to her knees, coughing more of that foul liquid. It was _everywhere_, staining her clothing and hair.

Before she could succumb to the horror surrounding her, she spotted a small orb of light. It was drifting in mid-air, as if in slow motion. It beckoned her to follow it. To touch it. Feeling renewed energy, she got to her foot and allowed herself to gravitate towards it. The walk felt endless as the rain continued to pour. Her feet sloshed in her boots, resisting the current. Holding a hand out, she so nearly grabbed hold of the ball of energy. The instant of contact made, she was then blasted with what felt like a powerful wind. She shielded her eyes, holding her breath and trying to keep upright. When it finally stopped, her eyes opened and refocused.

All she could do was scream.

"Tifa! _Tifa?! Wake up!_" Someone's voice was calling her through the void, pulling her away from the horrendous vision. Yanking her out of the depths of her dreams. Waking up with a started, she could still hear the screams.

It wasn't until she met the concerned and questioning eyes of Cloud Strife that she realized they had been her own.

His hands were large and warm as they clung to her trembling shoulders, his lips in a hard line as his hair shimmered like gold in the pale moonlight that poured in from the window by her bed. She was disoriented, squinting as she tried to spot more of that rain. She was cleaned and dry, outside of the dampness of sweat at her brow. When her lips parted, she surprised herself with how hoarse she sounded. "C-Cloud…?"

It appeared that his name on her lips broke the concentrated spell he was under, his face softening. Those deep pools of azure widened briefly before he sprung backwards as if she was made of flames and he had been burned. Moving a hand to the back of his neck, she noticed how disheveled he was; old grey shirt rumpled and sticking out of one of side of his baggy black pajama pants. "I, uh, heard you crying out down the hall and came in here to check…"

She felt the heat licking at her cheeks long before words formed in her head. "I…I'm sorry…"

The air was pregnant with questions. As he awkwardly stood at the side of her bed, his eyes darting between her sitting frame and the door, the brunette got the sense that he didn't know what to do now that she was awake.

"Did you…want to…" he tried to ask, swallowing before continuing, "…talk about it?" She couldn't discern whether or not he was asking out of a feeling of obligation or if he genuinely wanted to know what plagued her slumber.

"What did you hear?" she asked too fast, growing embarrassed as his eyes took an interest in the corner of her ash-grey comforter.

A heavy sigh later, he brushed back some of his golden spikes and tilted his head to the side. "You said her—_Aerith's_ – name." The way he corrected himself with their departed friend's name made her heart clench. Some wounds were never going to fully heal.

She debated for a few seconds whether or not she should divulge. The flower maiden that died before her time haunted all of them. Tifa knew that she was not the only one who suffered greatly from the loss. Cloud looked like a lost child, his skin like alabaster under the moon's rays as he moved from side to side, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

The silence caused her to open her mouth to fill the void, "It was fine at first. I felt like I was in the Lifestream, just floating along, you know? But then…it turned horrible and it started to rain…" Cloud finally decided to take a seat, the end of her bed sinking under his weight as he turned to look at her. It didn't deter her from continuing, though. Her knees moved upwards, arms wrapping around her knees as she lost herself in the memory. "I was drowning in it; I couldn't breathe or see anything but the blood. And then…I was following this light. Something flew at me and I had to close my eyes, but when I opened them again…"

Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, spilling onto her bed as she tried to avoid his gaze.

"Tifa…" His voice was as broken as she felt, a mere whispered apology. But she didn't want his sympathy, so she pressed on.

"When I opened them again, I saw her. She was so pretty, just like we knew her. But…then…" Then, her flesh melted from her bones, her clothing becoming waterlogged and hair thinning. Her mouth, which was once known for her jokes and laughter, was now dull and lifeless. The eyes of endless emerald that once held such innocence and a wealth of knowledge and curiosity were sinking into the depths of sockets, leaving nothing but blank holes behind. By the time Cloud woke her up, Aerith Gainsborough was only a skeleton with a pink ribbon dangling from a few rotten strands of brittle hair.

The words wouldn't come out.

Something warm brushed along her hands, bringing her attention to the blond across from her. His eyes – so penetrating and full of regrets – gazed at her with remorse and understanding. A tenderness resonated there; something she had never seen from him in the past. It slowed her heaving heart, fingertips lightly grazing over her knuckles.

He was a breath of fresh air in her darkest hour. A reminder that unlike her friend, she was _alive_ and _breathing_. She was there, inches away from him. It was so rare for Tifa to display any sort of weakness. She was the rock that held everyone together since Sephiroth's inevitable demise. In moments like this, she felt like she was eight years old again, trapped in her sadness and isolated from the world.

Only Cloud could ever be allowed to see her so broken. So _scared_.

It was in that touch that she knew he was there for her. He understood what she couldn't say because he saw it himself when he closed his eyes at night. They were both grieving the loss of someone so special to them. As her hand moved away from her kneecap, her own fingers curling around his, Tifa wondered if maybe now they could grieve together.


	2. Key 2: Scars

**Author's Note:** Thank you for your reviews and comments! I'm glad that you are enjoying this so far. I promise more to come as I work through my different ideas.

_Reminder: _These are not in any particular order, as I write them when I feel in the mood for a specific setting/situation.

* * *

_"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars." _  
― **Khalil Gibran**

"Did it hurt?"

She _almost_ laughed at the question. _Of course it hurt_, she thought, internally rolling her eyes. On the outside, she simply shrugged. Honestly, she was more shocked at the fact that they were here, on the couch, half-drunk and actually talking about something so personal. It had started as any other night off she had; movie playing on the television as she made herself something greasy to eat.

Cloud had come home from his delivery to Kalm earlier than expected – by twelve hours – and seemed more down and out than usual. It wasn't until he mentioned the date that she realized why.

It was the anniversary of the date he left to join SOLIDER.

And so, to _celebrate_, the two of them cracked open one of her finer bottles of wine and proceeded to drink it down. With neither of them being heavy drinkers, the alcohol sank through their bloodstream quicker than it would someone more 'seasoned'.

Tifa was especially feeling the effects, her face already flushed to the nines, her inhibitions leaving her like the petals of a flower being picked off one by one. By now, the movie was long forgotten as the two of them started babbling on about nothing in particular. Until Cloud, out of nowhere, glanced over at her chest and asked the invasive question without _being _invasive about it.

"Like a handshake from Ifrit himself," she replied, smirking at her own joke while waving a hand at him in dismissal.

He was quiet for a few minutes, his arm stretched out across the cushions of the old, weathered couch. It was the first lull in their conversation since the cork popped off the now nearly-empty bottle on the table. Tifa was wary – why did he ask such a random question like that? He never before questioned her about her scar. Her _cursed _reminder of her nativity as a teenager. She took note of his silence; something very familiar to her even in the alcoholic haze she was in.

"You know…I never did…" Cloud spoke finally, his voice so quiet she could have missed it. Watching him with puzzled eyes and pursed lips, she waited for him to finish his thought. A hand brushed through his locks, as if he was warring with himself over what to say next. "…I'm sorry."

_Does he still blame himself?_

Tifa knew better than most that he churned his own pot of regret like it was his job. She also understood why he would even if she didn't agree with his beliefs. But what happened to her in the mako reactor was not at _all_ because of any ill action on his part. She briefly remembered him mentioning his regret back in Kalm years ago, though she didn't open her mouth then to protest.

She could _now_.

With the shell of insecurity waning within her, Tifa opened her mouth, looking straight at the blond with determination in her darkened eyes.

"You can blame yourself for a lot of things, Cloud, but _this—_" she placed a hand over her own chest before continuing, "—this was _my_ fault, for not thinking when I ran into that place with Sephiroth's sword. I was young and stupid and it almost cost me my life." She was impressed with herself for how coherent she was while she spoke. He must've struck a chord in her where the wine couldn't reach. Or perhaps the subject was sobering her up. Either way, she felt she was on a roll. "If it hadn't been for Zack and _you_, I would have…" she trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence.

Cloud tensed immediately, though she wasn't sure if it was because she alluded to her potential demise or if it was from her mention of Zack.

"I just…wish it could've been different. That I got to where I wanted, could show up at home and be proud of myself, show Mom and you and the others what I accomplished…" Tifa's eyes widened as she nearly felt the alcohol leave her senses. This was the most Cloud had _ever_ opened up to her about that time, and she needed to be alert to remember what he was telling her.

"The things you've done since then _are_ things to be proud of," she pointed out, adjusting herself on the couch by tucking a leg underneath herself and leaning against the arm at her side. The barmaid wanted to give him her full attention. Cloud simply shook his head, finding the frayed seams of the couch more interesting than her. "You can't blame yourself for _everything_…" She huffed out a sigh at his silent reluctance, her face turning away. "Not when the fault's really _mine_."

"—Huh?" She heard his voice perk up, drawing her attention back to the pain-filled expression he wore. His eyes were wider than before, searching for clarification. "What do you mean…?"

Shrugging, she suddenly wished there was more wine. "I _mean_, that if I hadn't been stupid and ignored you back then, you wouldn't have left in the first place."

There was another silence between them – _longer _than before. This time, she was growing increasingly uncomfortable as she felt his gaze boring into her like she was insane. Her words were another painful reminder of her past mistakes. Tifa could feel her chest constricting, her breaths coming quicker while Cloud still _said nothing_. She wondered then if what she said was too much. Too piercing.

Before she could contemplate this idea further, she felt a flood of warmth. Limbs reached out for her, pulling her sideways until she toppled over on herself across the couch, head landing against Cloud's shoulder. She was on fire as she heard his breathing; each inhale soaking up her scent, memorizing it. There was a pause as her still-foggy mind rushed to process what just happened.

_Is he hugging me?_

His hug felt _so good_, too. Full of apologies, promises and wishes. Closing her eyes, Tifa surrendered to the gesture, her own hands resting along his firm back. One of his hands thread through her hair, gently tugging at it while they listened to each other's breathes. The clock was ticking nearby, credits rolling on the television screen, which cast an un-earthly glow over the two of them.

They could have been like that for a minute or an hour, she didn't care. It was some time before either of them moved, she knew that much. When they did, it started with Cloud's hand detangling itself from her hair, curving around her torso enough for her to pull back. Her eyes met his, seeing the desperation in his own orbs. It was so strong that her breath caught, mouth frozen as his fingertips grazed over the lining of her vest. At first, Tifa seriously questioned his intentions. Had the alcohol affected him a lot more than she thought?

When his hand lowered, resting perfectly over her heart, right where her scar lay, she understood.

"Can I…?" he whispered, his voice thick and low, but not from lust or want. In that instant, Tifa realized he never clearly _saw_ her scar before – maybe in parts during battle or something like that, but never up close. If he heard the whimper that escaped her trembling lips or how hard her heart was pounding, he made no acknowledgement. Nodding once, she held her breath as his thumb and forefinger took hold of the zipper, the ripping sound of it detaching echoing in her ears. Each release of a rung made her that much more anxious.

_This_ Cloud was bold and curious. Tifa didn't know how to react.

After the zipper reached just below the swell of her breasts, he stopped. Fingers hovered over the collar of her off-white tank top, his eyes searching for further permission from her own. When he found it, his fingers dipped inside, the contact of skin on skin causing both of them to shiver. He pulled down the cloth just enough to see the tip of the disfigured flesh. The barmaid was barely breathing, her heart no doubt easily visible in its movements underneath her skin.

The pad of his forefinger brushed along the jagged cut, directly above her heart. It fluttered, reminding Tifa that she needed oxygen. Her own hands itched to touch him, or push him away, _anything_ to distract her from the heady scent of rust and wild grass that wafted her way from his close proximity. She could see the smaller scars that decorated his fingers and knuckles.

Both of them had entire maps of their fighting prowess all over their bodies.

This moment was monumental. Tifa watched with as little sound as she could muster as Cloud seemed to memorize the way it etched into her skin. How it clung to her paleness, angry and full of hate. She was drowning in everything Cloud, from his scent to the heat of his breath along her neck and upper chest. Her entire body felt like it would melt at any time.

It was the most intimate thing she had _ever_ experienced, and it was nothing like the romance novels she had tucked away underneath her mattress.

A few seconds passed before he drew back sharply, blinking. Whatever spell it was, it had broken. Tifa made haste to zip herself back up while the two of them fought to regain their composure. The desire that she felt from the experience was rapidly depleting, replaced with embarrassment. Cloud's shoulders were rising and sagging in rhythm with his uneven breaths, eyes blank.

Tifa hesitated, her face wrinkling in concern as her hand reached for his face. He was white as a moogle against the light of the screen. "Cloud…?" she whispered. There was no response. "Cloud…" Nothing. "Cloud, please, come back…!" Her fingers slid along the curvature of his jawline, cradling his face while her eyes pleaded for him to listen to her. Whatever just happened triggered something within him. He disappeared within himself. This was something she recognized from when he was suffering from the mako poison. She could feel the tears aching to form at the corners of her eyes, her nose scrunching up as fear wedged itself inside of her.

"Cloud, I'm _right_ here_,_" she murmured, grabbing one of his hands – now limp – and setting it on her chest, back over her heart. "Can you feel that? I'm _alive_ and here _with you_." In the back of her head, she made a note not to allow him to drink so much so fast like this again. "Please hear me and come back. _Don't_ disappear on me again."

The ex-soldier was still as a statue; the horror of the day her scar was created replaying in his eyes. She knew that was what was going on, that she needed to pull him out of that. "We're not there anymore. We're in Seventh Heaven. Come back to the bar, Cloud. Don't let those memories keep you."

She counted mentally thirty-three long seconds before she heard him exhale. His body slumped, her arms catching him as his head fell onto her chest, nestled against her hair and warmth.

_"Tifa…"_

The brunette was stricken with uncertainty, not know if she should move him away or leave him be. In the end, as she listened to his breathing slow to a steady tempo, all she could do was smile.

Tonight started off with two friends drinking away their pain from the anniversary of a sad day and it ended with a country boy nearly curled up against a sobered barmaid, who clung to him as much as he did her. Would Cloud remember any of this in the morning? Tifa doubted it as she lightly played with some of his hair, noting how much younger he looked in his sleep.

At one point, she would have to wake him up and get him to his room. But for now, she'd let him rest. Keep him close. Relish in how much he trusted her this night. Hope that it would happen more often in the future.

And pray that she wouldn't get up to his drool on her shirt.


	3. Key 3: Illness

**Author's Note:** Time for the next installment. Thank you again for the reviews. These have been really fun to write and explore. If you think of something you would like me to write about, feel free to leave your ideas in your reviews!

_Reminder:_ These are not in any particular order, as I write them when I feel in the mood for a specific setting/situation.

* * *

_"Opportunities are often things you haven't noticed the first time around." _  
― **Catherine Deneuve  
**

Another earthquake rang throughout Seventh Heaven, causing Tifa to wince as she stirred the aromatic liquid in the pot. This was such rare occasion, since Cloud was never one to get sick. Blame it on the mako or JENOVA cells in his system, but his immunity to disease far exceeded that of a normal human being. But every once in a while, he would come down with a nasty version of a cold. And when he did get sick, it was _awful_.

He was bedridden; nose swollen and leaking while his eyes were red from failed attempts at rubbing out the itching.

Marlene and Denzel were forbidden from being anywhere near him, since Tifa didn't want them to catch what he had. She wasn't so worried for herself, her own immunity having strengthened from her stint in the Lifestream (or so she assumed) years back. This was why she barely bat an eye as she finished preparing the herbal soup, pouring it into a large bowl and setting it on a tray.

This time, as another quake of a sneeze erupted, she was ready for it and didn't dare flinch. In all her years of bartending, she gained good skills in balancing heavy things in her hands. As she moved upstairs, she could hear his discomfort. Cloud was very good at keeping to himself, unless he was sick. Then, it was as though he reverted back to a child, groaning and whining about being uncomfortable and hating it.

A ghost of a smile spread across her lips as she knocked on the slightly ajar door to his room. "Cloud? I have your lunch ready," she warned, before pushing the door open with her elbow and making her way inside.

He looked pale; hair in its usual disarray yet the color could pass as faded from not being properly washed. Blankets were covering him up to his shoulders, his broad arms flat on top. The barmaid felt terrible for him, knowing that feeling weak and foggy had to be hard for him. When their eyes met, she was struck with how glossed over her azure hues had become. Her heart broke at the way he pleaded with them, as if she could give him an instant cure.

Approaching the bed, she did her best to appear calm in front of him. "I made an old family recipe – something Mama would make when I was sick. I also have some juice and a fresh cookie."

"Tifa…" His voice was scratchy and forlorn, telling her with one word that she didn't need to go through the trouble. But she did and would again. Ignoring it, she reached the bed and unfolded the bottom of the tray, setting it over his lap. "-..Hnn…smells good…" he murmured reluctantly, causing a smile to grow across her lips.

"There are some powerful herbs in the mix, one that should help to clear the congestion in your nose. If you can already smell them, then you're on the right track," Tifa explained, sitting at the side of the bed and crossing one leg over the other. "Were you able to sleep at all after breakfast?"

Cloud tentatively dipped his spoon into the liquid, eyes darting between her and the food before he answered, "Not much. Can't get comfortable." As if to prevent himself from speaking further, he shoved a spoonful into his mouth. Not thirty seconds later, he spat it out; face growing red as he glared at Tifa questioningly. "What _is_ that?!" he exclaimed. Tifa only chuckled, knowing his reaction would play out that way.

"Honey herbal soup with leek, noodles, onion, and a little bit of chili powder," she explained while Cloud fanned his mouth.

"…_A little bit_?! My tongue is burning!" Cloud almost pouted as Tifa chuckled louder.

"That's the _point_, Cloud," she replied. "It's meant to burn the illness right out of you. Mama said that the mix of the different flavors would wake up the receptors in your mouth and nose. It always worked for me and now it will work for you – as long as you have the _entire_ bowl."

"No. Not interested," he jabbed, crossing his arms like a stubborn child. "Not hungry anymore."

Rolling her eyes, Tifa planted a hand at her hip. "You want to set a good example for Denzel and Marlene, don't you? Think they'll want to take medicine if they spot you being all huffy? You've swallowed worse things."

There was an awkward moment of silence as her words fizzled in the air around them. She hadn't realized until the words left her mouth what she implied, what memories she could have triggered. Cloud was staring into the soup now, looking lost. She noticed that his hands were now fists at each side of his lap. "Cloud…I'm…" _So sorry…_

Without another word, he resumed eating the soup, a strange look of resolve on his face merging with wariness.

"Seeing you this way reminds me," Tifs started speaking, her mind reminiscing, "of when we were in Mideel." His eyes focused on her for a few seconds before falling back to his lunch. He ate a little slower now. "I'm sure you don't remember much but…"

"You stayed the whole time," he stated after swallowing and grimacing. Tifa nodded slowly, giving him a solemn expression.

Pulling at a few strands of her long mahogany locks, the brawler glanced at her knees. "Everyone else left, you know? They needed to go after WEAPON and didn't think…well, I knew I couldn't leave you alone. You were so sick…" She could remember the humidity in the air that day, when everyone left her there, thinking Cloud was done for. It made her so angry with all of them, but it was short-lived as her focus shifted on making sure Cloud was taken of properly and that there would be a friendly face when he did come out of his 'daze'.

"I don't…remember a whole lot. Just about the Black Materia and Sephiroth…" He was remembering that time as well, his face smoothing out as his eyes hardened. "And I woke up, with you next to me, holding my hand."

"Hey Cloud…"

"Hn..?" Cloud coughed a few times while Tifa tried to muster the courage to ask him.

_You can do this, Lockhart. Even if he's sick, now's the best time since he seems open to talking about it!_

"Do you remember…anything about the Lifestream?"

Cloud looked at her for a long moment, golden brows furrowing as if he was struggling to find an answer to her question. "We were there…together…"

Nodding with more enthusiasm, a small smile appeared on her face. "Yeah, we fell into it when WEAPON attacked."

"I heard you calling me…" One of Cloud's hands wiped his brow, a scowl on his face as he looked as though he was in mental pain. "…_Ngh_…"

"Cloud…" Tifa moved a hand towards him, about to say they could stop. He was sick enough; she didn't want him suffering more because of a stupid question. His hand jet out and caught her wrist, calloused fingers wrapping around her hand like a lifeline. Their joined hands plopped onto the blanket, making the tray shake over his legs. Both of them stared at the contact, Tifa's heart pounding while the blond contemplated.

"No, Tifa. I should…I _need_ to stop holding it back. The memories. Some are hard but…" The conviction in his voice silenced her, her mouth closing as he continued to think. "You followed me into the past, didn't you? You met…my shadow."

"It wasn't your shadow, Cloud. It was _you_," she corrected. "I was so scared that you would have believed everything Sephiroth told you. That you weren't real."

"I didn't feel real," he confessed, his shoulders slumping. Idly, his thumb traced a small line back and forth along the inside of her hand. "How could I? Nothing made sense. I thought I was in SOLDIER but there was no proof, and then he said I was just a puppet…"

"But you're not, and you always were real, just lost," she said softly, though her tone was stern. "I knew you were real. I knew and believed." Her feelings for him could never have been make-believe.

A twitch at the corner of his mouth was his response, before his deep eyes drifted up to her face. She began to feel incredibly warm. Maybe she was coming down with his cold after all?

"Yeah. Your memories…they saved me back then. Reminded me of who I really was."

The simplest touch of their hands made her heart beat wildly, his voice coating it in longing. But Tifa didn't let it show, her eyes brightening as the two of them mirrored each other's smile.

"Do you remember anything else from when we were in the Lifestream?" she urged, wanting to know if he remembered admitting to her why he left Nibelheim in the first place. Cloud's eyes lowered, his face scrunching up slowly as if he was thinking extra hard this time around.

But instead of an answer, she got Gaia's biggest earthquake. She yelped as his sneeze rattled through her _own_ bones! Luckily, most of his soup had been gone by then, leaving just some juice and the cookie. Cloud cursed under his breath as he grabbed tissues, severing their connected hands to try and clean himself up. While he did that, she removed the tray, placing the juice and cookie at his bedside.

The moment lost, Tifa watched as he wiped his nose and leaned back, his head hitting the lifted pillows behind him, eyes closing. He looked absolutely spent – one of the side effects of the soup. "I think it's time for you to get some rest," she said, leaning over to tuck him up as it seemed like he was about five seconds from clocking out. Her heart was heavy with the promise of knowing the truth having slipped from her grasp yet again.

As she drew back, she felt his hand grasp hers gently. Tifa pivoted to see Cloud looking at her with half-lidded eyes.

"…I remember…wanting you to notice…" he started to slur, clearly on the cusp of sleep. Tifa's heart did a summersault in her chest while his eyes closed, breathes evening out slowly. Catching her breath in her throat, Tifa leaned over, listening to his breathing for a few seconds. Squeezing his hand, she placed a quick kiss against his clammy forehead.

Dislodging his hand and resting it over his stomach, she took one last look at his boyish, though reddened face. _You can be such an idiot sometimes Cloud. _

"I've _always_ noticed you," she whispered, before picking up the bowl of soup and leaving the ex-soldier to get some much needed rest.


	4. Key 4: Desperation

**Author's Note:** Hello, again! This drabble is definitely an M-rated one for lemony goodness between these two. I hope you all enjoy it.

_Reminder: _These are not in any particular order, as I write them and I feel in the mood for a specific setting/situation.

* * *

_"I hunger for your sleek laugh and your hands the color of a furious harvest. I want to eat the sunbeams flaring in your beauty." _  
― **Pablo Neruda**

The bar was exceptionally quiet that day. Tifa was keeping herself busy by scrubbing down the bathroom, making sure every nook and cranny was spotless. It was a tough job but needed to get done, and since the kids were gone for the weekend with Yuffie to go visit Cid in Rocket Town, she knew she'd have the time to concentrate on getting it finished. She really needed the distraction, too, since any time she had a few moments to herself, she thought about Cloud.

It had been almost a week since she last heard from him; a spotty call during a storm when he was on the road. From what she could make out, there was a delay due to some rather massive monster attacks near Gongaga, which meant he would be back home later than expected. The call cut out before she could decipher anything else.

She _knew_ he was safe, that he could handle himself and anything that came along out there. But she still worried – one of her most prominent traits and one that often made him frustrated. Tifa also knew that he secretly loved that about her, too. She cared when no one else did.

The sweet smell of vanilla-scented cleaner (her own creation since she hated the smell of traditional cleaner) pleasantly saturated the room as she finished wiping off the rim of the tub. The brunette felt accomplished at the very least, even though in three days it would get covered in shampoo, soap scum, and discarded clothes once again.

_A mother's work is never done, huh…?_

Wiping her brow as she tossed her rags in the bucket she had been using, she smiled. The ringing of a bell downstairs disrupted her thoughts, her soapy hands rubbing along the smock at her waist as she walked out of the bathroom, curious as to who was in Seventh Heaven unannounced. Heavy footsteps and some muffled cursing greeted her as she made her way down the hall, approaching the stairs with baited breath.

_"-Damnit…!"_ she heard, before something knocked over and hit the floor. It sounded like one of her barstools. Was it a burglar? Who'd come to steal from her, and in _daylight_? Narrowing her eyes, she felt for her leather gloves, which were nestled in her back pocket. She used her stealth to move down the stairs one at a time, her back hugging the wall with the railing as she descended.

The first thing she saw when she peered around the corner of the stairwell was the irritated face of Cloud, his body hunched over slightly for him to pick up the stool he knocked over in what looked like a rush. Bags were on the floor by the door, a few filled with food and probably gifts for the kids. A wave of relief washed over her as Tifa made an appearance, crimson hues brightening when found by his gaze.

"Do you know that I was _this close,_" she lifted her thumb and forefinger in front of her face, as if to pinch the air, "to beating the living hell out of you for attempting theft?"

The blond's awkward laugh made her smile, one of his hands ran through his spikes as she approached him. He looked disheveled, but every bit as attractive as always. Cloud's eyes at first showed apology, before shifting into something darker as he took in her own messy appearance: hair tied up loosely at the nape of her neck, grey tank top that had a few holes in it and some damp spots from water, and tight black capris pants that left her ankles and bare feet exposed. She was removing the smock she had on, doing her best _not_ to blush furiously from his hungry eyes.

After tossing the fabric over one of the nearby chairs, she lifted her head, about to speak, but was cut off by his mouth covering hers. His hands gripped her hips, pressing her against his solid form. She didn't even think as she granted him access to the inside of her mouth, her eyes fluttering shut. He smelled of the road, engine oil and coffee. His strength surprised her, fueling the moan that came from her throat as he held her close in his embrace. She'd probably even bruise from the way his fingers dug into her skin, but she didn't care in the slightest.

Their tongues fought for dominance in their familiar dance until they needed to breathe. Pulling back, Tifa was struggling against the haze that the ex-soldier's kisses often put her in. "Cloud…what was _that_ for…?" she asked. Had he missed her as much as she him? He remained silent, his hovering stance making her feel very small and vulnerable for some reason. She recognized the blaze in his penetrating pools of ice; she had seen it only a few times before, when he was desperate and focused (usually in battle). It actually scared her a little, although it was doing _fantastic_ things to her body. He was looking at her as if she was the last drop of water during a drought and he was _very_ thirsty.

_Holy smokes. What's gotten into him?_

Not that she had much time to ponder this question, as his hands moved from her hips to her waist, fingers inching underneath the thin material of her tank top. His face buried itself in her neck, and she could've sworn she heard him purr. "…Missed you," he said against her skin, before planting needy kisses there. She could _hear_ her heart in her ears, thrumming loudly as adrenaline from this sudden exchange filled her veins. "So much….Tifa."

His thumbs rubbed circles along the soft flesh of her flat belly, making her feel weak in the knees. Taking that as a cue, Cloud quickly wrapped an arm around the back of her knees, hoisting the brawler upwards until she was resting bridal-style in his arms. She actually giggled at his action, blushing as she kissed his neck in return. Deciding to play along with all this, she lifted her face; her nose touching the shell of his ear just enough to send a shiver down his spine.

"The kids are gone for the next two days," she cooed, before nipping at his earlobe. Cloud moved so rapidly up the stairs and into their bedroom that one would have assumed he casted Haste.

It didn't take much longer for them to both be removed of clothes, much to their shared delight. Cloud wasted _no_ time, either, as he practically forced a willing Tifa onto the bed, savoring the feeling of his weight on hers. She was so much smaller compared to him, from her hands to her waist, that he usually held a sense of control when they were intimate. As if she could break. But this time, it seemed he was ignoring that feeling, instead attacking her with everything he had.

Her nails would leave marks along his muscled back, her lips peeling back as she cried out his name. Begging him to stop teasing her with his tongue and hands. The way he teased her everywhere he touched, playing her like she was his own personal instrument…it was driving her insane. This was pure carnal desire, the way that need swirled in his eyes as he gazed at her underneath him. Her hair was wild against the pillows, like a sea of chestnut and mahogany. Her skin was deliciously flushed, breasts moving in tandem to her pulse while each breath she took was shaken and uneven. He _loved_ that he did this to her.

_He_ reduced her to a quivering puddle of desire for only him.

Cloud had a rough couple of weeks leading to now. It wasn't just a delay due to an insurgence of Grand Horns and Kimera Bugs, but Fenrir had also gotten a flat on the way, _then_ a storm had led to a flash flood within the town and he stayed to clean it up. On top of that, his phone had died during his last call with Tifa. Not to mention the fact that none of the calls he did have with her actually worked well, since the flood pretty much ruined reception out there. He was so angry after that, that he threw the damn thing into the forest.

It wasn't until he was halfway towards Edge that he really recognized how badly he missed the barmaid. She kept him focused and calm whenever he needed it. No doubt she had been worried sick about him all this time. He didn't want to come home and see her sad face – a look he knew too well from past mistakes. He needed to prove to her that she hadn't been far from his mind the entire time he was gone. Show her that she was his oxygen, his reason to breathe.

And seeing the frail outfit she had on, looking grungy from probably cleaning something upstairs…he lost all sense of control after that. The woman was going to be the death of him.

Which she seemed to be enjoying _a lot_, so he decided to continue. Besides, the mewls she made were making him _impossibly_ harder and he knew he wouldn't last much longer without being inside of her warmth. He was too tightly wound up from the journey.

Tifa was just as wound, as she wrapped her legs at Cloud's waist, trapping him right where he wanted and _needed_ to be. One look into her beautiful ruby hues and he was lost, sliding himself in and connecting the two of them. With a fulfilled sense of _home_, he met her thrust after thrust. Her mouth made quick work of his shoulder, leaving love bites while his hands held hers against the mattress. The only sounds that reverberated around the room were the motions of skin meeting skin, creaks from the bedposts under their strain, and their own personal melody of lust.

Like everything else that happened once she walked down those stairs, it didn't take long for them to meet their dual crescendo. Cloud collapsed on top of her, his forehead drenched with sweat as she brushed it away from her nose. "…_Love you, Tifa…"_ he breathed, nestling his face against her chest, his hands wrapping around her.

"I love you, too. Welcome home, Cloud," she murmured, smiling as she listened to him fall into a relaxed sleep. She followed not far behind.


End file.
